


melting

by leenk



Category: VALORANT (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Kissing, Making Out, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leenk/pseuds/leenk
Summary: “I’m glad you came back, you know,” the ‘to me’ is unspoken, but Raze knows it’s there. “You don’t make a bad lap warmer.”
Relationships: Killjoy/Raze (VALORANT)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	melting

**Author's Note:**

> my fucking god. these bitches gay. good for them. good for them. (also i hc that raze's full name is isabella)

Raze shakes off the cold like a dog would shake off water. Both arms wrapped tight around either shoulder, mittened hands coming up to rub away the chill. There’s fabric to be found between her skin and her fingers, but she likes to pretend like the additional rub of her palms is actually helpful. One would think that being inside would help warm her up, but she felt quite the opposite. As bundled up as she was, the temperature outside had seemingly reached her bones, stuck into her core like a sticker one couldn’t peel off.

However fond of her mates as she was, she didn’t need them to see her freezing up at the edge of their living room. Living… area. Designated civil interaction area. Uh. Mess hall? No one really knew what to call the place, even if it was the most frequented spot in their quarters. Usually, she’d find one of the more extroverted members of the team out here, having a conversation or getting through a meal. The rest would do so in their quarters.

Today, she happens to find Skye. It makes Raze feel a little better, knowing that her shame wouldn’t be as rough. The woman disliked the cold as well, after all, and wouldn’t make fun of Izzy for stumbling her way in. Or, well. Waddling would be the more accurate way to call it.

“Aw, girlie,” Skye mumbles, cracking a side grin. “Y’look like you’ve seen better days. Want somethin’ hot? I could whip it up for you.”   
  
Raze does her best to smile back. Really, she does! But she’s well aware that her expression may just come across as a grimace. 

“Appreciate it, but no thank you,” she shakes her head. Her body’s already shaking, so it doesn’t take much for the action to be seen. “D-do you know if Kill’s in the laboratory?”   
  
Her last mission put a toll on her blast packs. Apparently, they don’t perform too well in the cold. (Neither does she.)   
  
“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that. Sorry. Y’know I don’t go there,” Skye makes an X using both of her index fingers. “Too many lights. That shit makes my eyes hurt.”

Raze and her both share a little laugh. Waving her goodbye, she begins her trek into their quarters’ many hallways. She used to always forget which one lead to the men’s rooms, and which one lead to the spare rooms, but it’s getting easier to distinguish them nowadays. What with how often she goes into the spare rooms, of course. It’s where they’ve stuffed some of the agent’s labs into, and the supply room, and also an extra kitchen. She wasn’t allowed in it, though. Not after Jett’s birthday bash.

Peering down, she knew she’d be in trouble if anyone found her. She’d dragged snow into the base, as she refused to take her shoes off at the entrance. She’d freeze her feet off, even in here. The only problem with that being that there was now melting ice in a little trail behind her. Melting ice that she’d have to mop up, if Brimstone or Viper were to see. The rest, in all honesty, would not care. 

As was her luck, though, just as she’s reaching Killjoy’s door, Brimstone pops out of it. Raze probably would have prefered to freeze outside, rather than on the spot. Which she does. She stares at him. He stares back. Squints.

“How many layers do you even have on, kid?” He looks… concerned? “Three, four? That looks  _ unnatural _ . Sweet Jesus.”   
  
He motions to her bulging body, which may or may not have been the result of her wearing three different coats, two sweaters, and her underwear. (She was a  _ refined _ lady, after all.) (And also she didn’t want her nipples to freeze.)

“Hiii,” she manages. “Is she busy?” She points to the lab behind him.   
  
“I just gave her something to do, so I’d hope so.” Brimstone’s eyes finally fall down to the floor. The wet, tiled floor. His brows raise.

She purses her lips. Hears him sigh.

“I’m trusting that your mission went well?” He’s refusing to acknowledge the growing puddle behind her, so that’s a good thing. “Sova came back with you too, didn’t he? I need to talk to him about something.”   
  
Raze nods, though she isn’t sure as to where they are. Maybe they’ve come inside, too. She’d left the rest of her team as soon as they’d arrived. It’d been an easy task, even if she’d underperformed because of the weather. She’d never admit it, though.

“Alright. Just…” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Whatever. I’ll see if we have any ‘wet floor’ signs. Phoenix’s dumb ass will find a way to slip anyway, so if he does? I’m blaming you.”

Raze grins. “T-thank you. I’ll mop it up when- uh. Sometime. Soon.” 

Brimstone snorts, jabbing a thumb towards the lab door. “Just get inside.”

Finally,  _ finally,  _ she’s able to walk in. She’ll be dead if she drags more snow in here, but fortunately, Killjoy keeps her lab at a comfortable temperature. She’s safe (for now) from the woman’s fury, too, as she seems to be nose-deep in some kind of little… box. Not wanting to scare her, she closes the door carefully, making her presence inside of the laboratory known.

Killjoy glances up. Her glasses have slid down her nose, so she pushes them up to see Raze better. She’s sure to notice her melting, which makes Killjoy laugh, and makes Raze roll her eyes.

“I see you had some fun! Did you make snow angels?” 

This is their local genius, huh. Raze almost feels bad for humanity.  _ Almost _ , because Killjoy stands up and leaves her tools behind to go grab her. She watches the German girl approach her with raised brows, and she holds up both hands in front of her, defensive.

“H-hey, wait, I’m still covered in snow and-!” Raze’s protests fall on deaf ears. She gets the glomp.

“Oh, hush. I want to hug my little bubble-wrapped package,” she says. Killjoy doesn’t care if she’s getting her sweatshirt wet, or her joggers, which look adorable on her, holy shit, Raze is so gay. “You smell like  _ Sova _ . Is that his coat, under there?”   
  
When she pulls away, she’s holding a piece of fur between her fingers. Raze smiles sheepishly.

“It’s under there, yeah. There’s a couple more on me, though.” What? She’d gotten cold. “Wanna count em’?”   
  
Killjoy laughs, pushing her glasses back up again. “Sure! Let’s see what you’re hiding.”   


Raze struggles with the first coat. Killjoy helps her pull the sleeves off, and does so for the second coat. It’s the one Sova lended her. The third and final coat she can shrug off on her own, so she does. They all land around Raze like a crown of soaked clothing, leaving her in a yellow turtleneck and a thick pair of pants she’d stuffed her legs in. She climbs out of her boots as well, as they’d gotten squishy with how wet they were. 

“There we go! Finally, looking like a person and not a loaf of stuffed bread,” hands on her hips, Killjoy smirks at her. “Now, what did you need?”   
  
Raze kicks everything off to the side, snickering. “Shut uuup. Also, it’s nothing. I just needed help with my packs, if you’re not busy.”   


“I’m never busy. Not if it’s you.” Killjoy replies, soft. “Let me see them, yeah?”   
  
Raze pauses. Debates on if she should give her the blast packs now, or wait until later. Hm. 

Taking a few steps forward, she crashes onto Killjoy again. Meets her shoulder with a smile. Being shorter than her always came in handy for moments like these- where they could join chests and melt in a different way, for just a bit. She soon felt Killjoy’s arms around her back, one hand circling her head as her fingers dug into the beanie. She’d pulled it over her headphones haphazardly, so she wasn’t too surprised when it came off easily. 

“Mind if I put this on the pile, too?” Killjoy asks from above her, already tossing it atop the many layers she’d had on before. 

Raze doesn’t reply, since Killjoy’s already made the choice for her. Instead, she rocks them both from side to side, delighting in how the woman’s laugh rumbles through her chest. Makes her cheek vibrate as she’s pressed against it.

“So no blast packs?”   
  
“Nope.”

-

Later that day, she’s curled up on one of Killjoy’s big chairs. Correction: she’s curled up  _ with  _ Killjoy on one of Killjoy’s big chairs, watching the woman work through a new invention. It’d been the thing she’d seen her with, before. The little… box. It was supposed to help Brimstone out with locations, but Raze had no idea how. She was good with tinkering: the old school kind. The kind that had cables and machines and little explosives. Most things beyond that she  _ could _ attempt, but she’d never be as good at them as Killjoy. 

She twirls one of Killjoy’s dark locks between her fingers, head on her lap and knees up to her chest. She feels small, this way, and a little cramped up, but that’s alright. She wouldn’t want Killjoy to feel like she’s constricting her in any way, especially since she’s already snuck into her space enough. She’ll be free this whole week, though it surely won’t be the same for her girlfriend. The woman seldom had time to herself.

Not that Killjoy seemed to mind. She was just as content with building an arsenal of little robots as she was in Raze’s company, something which may have offended any other partner. But not her. Knowing that she occupied such a high spot in Killjoy’s list? It made her feel special. Being as precious to Killjoy as her creations were was an honor, frankly.

Raze shifts until she can stare up at Killjoy. She’s a lot warmer, here, tucked close against the other. She tried hiding her face inside the neck of her sweater, the extra fabric making for a great scarf, but it already smelled too much like Sova, her own sweat, and gunpowder. ( _ Always _ gunpowder.)

She tries not to think about it too much. Doesn’t like to bring up missions (work) into her time with Killjoy. 

“Thinking too hard can hurt your head, little mouse.” Killjoy boops her nose with an index finger.

She looks up at her cross-eyed, staring through the bridge of her own nose. The woman’s smiling down at Raze, her eyes softening in the only way they soften for her. 

“I’m glad you came back, you know,” the ‘to me’ is unspoken, but Raze knows it’s there. “You don’t make a bad lap warmer.”

Raze sticks her tongue out at her. “You’re just sayin’ that cause I can’t pick at your bots from here.”   
  
Killjoy’s warm smile turns into a devilish grin. “Maybe so. What’s it to you?”

Raze huffs, snaking herself out of Killjoy’s arms and sitting up. She soon remembers why she’d been tucked up against the German girl, a shiver running through her. Izzy stays away from her girlfriend for a grand total of 2 seconds before going back in, climbing onto her lap and straddling her.

“Raze! I can’t see my work!”

She tucks her head on Killjoy’s shoulder, much like she’d done earlier, and sighs. “Payback.”   
  
“For what? When have I  _ ever _ wronged you, dearest?”   
  
“Mm,” she knits her brows, trying to think of a time. Maybe the 7-1? “Dunno. Let me be. I’m comfortable.”   
  
She swears she can  _ hear _ Killjoy rolling her eyes. The engineer sets the cube down, along with her tools, and wraps an arm around Raze’s waist. The other’s in her hair again, though this time, the beanie isn’t in the way.   
  
“What’s wrong? You’re very cuddly today.”   
  
“M’ cold,” it’s not a lie. “And also I- I may have missed you. Just a bit.”

Killjoy noses her neck, the cool glass frames nudging up against the bare skin of her jaw. The rest remains covered in fabric. “Just a bit?”   
  
Raze nods, shivering again. “Just a bit.”   
  
She pulls away, setting their foreheads together. Killjoy looks into her eyes, and she does the same with her. Smiling, she pulls the girl in for a smooch. Throws her arms around her neck, much like how she throws herself into the kiss. Killjoy’s an odd kisser: maybe it’s the glasses, or the general awkwardness, but she often makes their teeth click. Doesn’t get their noses angled correctly, so they bump. Sometimes, she breathes into Raze’s face. But that’s all okay. Raze doesn’t mind. Not if it’s her. She nips at her lip and feels the grip on her turtleneck tighten. Feels her squeeze around waist.

As odd as she is, she sure knows where to grab. Where to put her hands. How to use them. That, Raze can admit, she’s very good at. But they’re not going there right now. Right now, she just wants to feel the heat again. The tender weight of gentle touches and affection. She finds home in Killjoy’s lips, and even as they pull away:   


“You’ve been acting odd,” she murmurs against Izzy’s skin. “What gives, ‘Bella?”

“Thinking again,” Raze replies. “Sorry. I have a lot in my head today.”   
  
“Oh?” Killjoy laughs- the stupid laugh, the one that sounds like she’s about to choke on something and has freaked Brimstone out a few times before. “Are those the same thoughts from before?”

“No. These ones are good thoughts,” she makes that clear. “The other ones were not.”   


Killjoy cants her head to the side, her glasses sliding along. “I see. Well, how about we do something more involved?” A cheeky grin. “Something that will definitely get your mind off everything.”   
  
Raze snorts, shoving Killjoy away playfully. “Are you  _ serious _ !”

-

They sneak out of the lab, hand in cold hand. If Skye catches them bolting through the hallway again, their clothes messed up and their hair everywhere, well. She doesn’t say a thing.


End file.
